


secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought

by drunkkenobi



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Drunk Sex, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, mild sexual crying, mild sexuality issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkkenobi/pseuds/drunkkenobi
Summary: This was not how any of this was supposed to go. Shane was so sure that his intentions had been clear, if fueled by alcohol. But Ryan kept apologizing, like it was all one big regret. LikeShaneregretted it.He didn’t. He was confused, scared, and hungover, but regretful? Never. Not even now, with everything Shane had worked so hard for in danger of slipping through his fingers. Last night had been one of the best, most exhilarating, most profound nights of his life. He would never take it back. Not ever.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 58
Kudos: 405
Collections: The Ghosts Are Watching





	secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was based on a prompt suggested by bessyboo, centered around [this](http://anonymto.com/?https://slate.com/human-interest/2019/12/straight-man-slept-with-gay-best-friend-advice.html) letter writer on Slate's advice column. 
> 
> Couple notes: Shane works through some sexuality stuff in this, but it's on the milder side. Also they have drunk but very consensual sex.
> 
> Big thanks to the discord for brainstorming some of the details with me. Huge thanks to thirst_enchanter for helping me with some of the smut. Extra super big thanks to Bee for the beta and her wonderful suggestions that got this fic where it needed to be.
> 
> Title: Arctic Monkeys "I Wanna Be Yours"

_From Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej_  
RB: Im so fuckin sorry, plz dont leave watcher  
SM: I would never Ryan. please don’t be sorry, it’s ok.  
RB: its all my fault tho  
RB: i understand if u just wanna be business bros  
SM: it’s ok, seriously. You’re not at fault for anything. I wanted to.  
RB: can we meet up tonight? I owe u a dinner   
RB: but not in that way i mean. I just mean im sorry

That last text had come in exactly eight minutes ago. Shane had not moved from his couch, his eyes boring a hole into his phone the entire time.

This was not how any of this was supposed to go. Shane was so sure that his intentions had been clear, if fueled by alcohol. But Ryan kept apologizing, like it was all one big regret. Like _Shane_ regretted it. 

He didn’t. He was confused, scared, and hungover, but regretful? Never. Not even now, with everything Shane had worked so hard for in danger of slipping through his fingers. Last night had been one of the best, most exhilarating, most profound nights of his life. He would never take it back. Not ever.  


* * *

_12 hours earlier_

“I think we need more shots,” Ryan said suddenly, bouncing up from the couch.

“Sure! Bring ‘em on, baby!” Shane shouted, swirling the ice in his otherwise empty glass. He was already pretty drunk, as Ryan had been steadily supplying them both with booze all night, but Shane couldn’t blame him. Getting dumped was one of the reasons alcohol was invented in the first place.

“What do you want this time?”

“It’s your pity party, you pick the poison.”

“That’s a whole lotta P’s, my dude,” Ryan giggled before devilish grin grew over his face. “Tequila again then.”

Shane groaned dramatically, draping his arm over his eyes. “You’re trying to kill me, Ryan Bergara, I know it.”

“Not before I get you to change your will and leave your stake in Watcher to me.”

“Joke’s on you, buddy, I don’t even have a will.”

“That’s not very smart. Even I have one.”

“You do?” Shane asked as he took the shot glass from Ryan.

“Of course I do. You don’t think about dead people as much as I do without gettin’ a fuckin’ will,” Ryan said simply.

“Wow. Intense turn of conversation here, buddy.”

Ryan shrugged, his glassy eyes staring down at his tequila. “Sorry. I know I’m too morbid.”

“If you weren’t morbid, I wouldn’t have a career, so don’t apologize about that ever,” Shane said, nudging Ryan’s elbow. Ryan just shrugged again, not looking up.

“He said I was creepy for liking that stuff. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No. What the fuck, what an asshole!” Shane declared, outraged that anyone who had the privilege of dating Ryan Bergara would dare say such a thing.

“You call me creepy all the time, dude,” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, as a bit. I don’t mean it, not really. You’re actually pretty gosh darn respectful about all the dead people you tell me about.”

“You think so?”

“Yup. Besides, I wouldn’t start a whole ass company with a creep. I’ve got better taste than that.”

That finally got a grin out of Ryan, his pearly whites flashing brilliantly in the dim light of the living room. “You sure about that, Mr. I-Put-Ice-In-My-Cereal?”

“Sure am. It’s certainly better than Mr. Fuckface’s.”

Ryan’s nose wrinkled at the mention of his ex. “He did like microwave popcorn.”

Shane threw a hand up in disgust. “See? What’d I tell you, no taste at all. You deserve so much better than that, Ryan.”

“Thanks,” Ryan murmured before throwing back his shot. It was fascinating to watch Ryan’s body react to the alcohol, from the way his shoulders shook to the deep flush rising in his cheeks. It reminded Shane of a hot stove, the red glow warning him to stay away while also begging him to touch.

“You gonna drink yours, big guy?” Ryan asked.

Shane ignored him, setting his shot glass down on the coffee table. He needed Ryan to listen to him and he needed to be the slightly less drunk one to do it. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“About what? Ice in cereal? No, I do not.”

“That you deserve better than Mr. Fuckface.” 

“Oh. I guess I do, but I dunno, Shane.” Ryan hunched over, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “What if he was my best shot?”

An anvil fell through Shane’s stomach at the mere thought. “Ryan, come on, no way! You can’t really think that, can you?”

“I’m not the easiest guy to date, you know? Crazy job, crazy schedule, famous enough to get bothered on the street, but not famous enough to get the real perks. Plus, you know, everything else about me. Not a lot of dudes that are into dudes are interested in all of that,” he explained, sitting back against the couch. His eyes were almost as red as his cheeks now.

Shane leaned in close to him, crowding Ryan’s personal space with all the boldness only a drunk Shane could possess. “Any man would be lucky as a fucking four-leaf clover to date you, okay?”

“I’m so shitty at finding those,” Ryan muttered, picking at one of the holes in his jeans. “Gimme all day and I can’t fucking find ONE.”

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right place.”

“Where should I be looking, then, smart guy?” Ryan asked.

This close up, Shane could almost count every hair in Ryan’s skeptically-raised eyebrows. He was struck by an impulse to run his thumb over them, but he was able to keep it to himself.

“I dunno! That’s not the point. The point is that somewhere out there, there’s a guy who will love all those things about you. He will also probably be, I dunno, ten feet tall and a quarterback for the Lakers.”

“Quarterback. Jesus Christ,” Ryan laughed.

Shane’s heart soared at seeing Ryan smile again. “Shortstop then.”

A hand smacked Shane’s arm. “Stop being so purposefully stupid about sports.”

“Never.”

Sighing, Ryan sagged further down the couch, his hands rubbing at his thighs. “I don’t think this quarterback-shortstop-four-leaf-clover guy exists, but thanks anyway.”

Shane’s hand curled around Ryan’s before he could stop himself. “He does, trust me.”

Never having held another guy’s hand before, Shane wasn’t used to how big it was, nor its warmth. It was nice. Different, but nice. 

“Shane?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you holding my hand?”

“I don’t know,” Shane said truthfully. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Ryan admitted. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Shane shifted his hand so he could properly lace their fingers. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.”

They sat like that for awhile, the only noise coming from Ryan’s ABBA playlist. Shane didn’t understand why ABBA was Ryan’s break-up band of choice, but as long as it helped him through it, that was good enough for Shane.

“Fuck,” Ryan said suddenly, his voice cracking. He wiped at his face with his other hand. “Sorry.”

“For what? This a toxic masculinity free zone, my friend, cry all about Mr. Fuckface if you wanna.”

“It’s not about him,” he sniffed. “It’s fucking ABBA, man. They fuckin’ get it.”

A fondness Shane could never even begin to explain overtook him. How could anyone not love Ryan with all of their heart? “That is just—I love this about you.”

Ryan snorted. “What, that I cry at disco music?”

“Yup. It’s one of your more endearing qualities.”

“Along with?” Ryan asked, not bothering to keep the whine out of his voice.

“Needy much?” Shane teased.

“I got dumped, gimme a goddamn break.”

“Okay, okay.” Shane gave Ryan’s hand a squeeze as he attempted to pare down the list in his head. They’d be here all night otherwise. 

“Your other most endearing qualities include, let’s see, your correct popcorn opinions in this barren wasteland of true kernelheads. Also that you can recite the details of a gruesome murder and the construction of Disneyland with equal enthusiasm and spunk—,”

“Gross,” Ryan snickered.

“And then there’s your very mature sense of humor, of course,” Shane added with a wheeze. 

“Hey, you said it.” Shane felt Ryan’s head land on his shoulder, but he was suddenly too paralyzed with something he couldn’t explain to turn his head to confirm it. 

“Now keep going,” Ryan muttered.

“Um. You’re really good at like, the, you know, um—”

“I don’t know.”

“Shut up! Fuck, what’s the word? Thoughtful! You’re good at thoughtfulness. Like you always remember everyone’s birthdays and you call your mom every week and shit like that.”

Ryan rubbed his nose against Shane’s shoulder. “Oh. You think so?”

“I do.” His head swimming with tequila and feelings and the heat of Ryan’s hand, Shane closed his eyes. “You should also know that you’re brave. The bravest. I always said you were and you are and you should listen to me about that.”

Ryan was so quiet that Shane was worried he’d fallen asleep, but before he could check, a weight was lifting from his shoulder and a kiss was pressing against his cheek.

“Thanks, big guy,” Ryan said softly, his breath hot against Shane’s skin.

Opening his eyes, Shane turned his head, his nose bumping Ryan’s. He tried to find something stupid or funny to say to lighten the mood, but he was too distracted by Ryan being so close. Even drunk and heartbroken, Ryan was still handsome enough to confuse the living hell out of Shane, with his big brown eyes and his perfect teeth and his adorably messy hair. Shane had never been attracted to men before, but something about Ryan made his stomach flutter and his mouth go dry. Maybe it was because of how intense starting the new company had been, maybe it was because of how close they were, or maybe it was just because it was Ryan. Shane still didn’t know, maybe he would never know, but right now he was tired of wondering.

Without any more hesitation, Shane ducked his head to press the softest of kisses to Ryan’s mouth. His lips were dry and he smelled like Old Spice, but Shane didn’t hate it. In fact, he kind of loved it.

“Sh-Shane,” Ryan stammered, pulling back. He was still holding Shane’s hand, although their palms were slick with sweat, now. “Why? Why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to,” Shane answered simply.

Ryan stared at him, those wide eyes filled with characteristic worry. Before Shane could ask if everything was okay, Ryan was kissing him, his mouth sliding against Shane’s insistently. Shane parted his lips, desperate to feel more of him, and Ryan obliged. He tasted like tequila, sharp and with a kick, while his stubble scraped against Shane’s skin. It was foreign and new and a little strange, but Shane liked it all the same. 

“Fuck,” Ryan said suddenly. “This isn’t happening, is it?”

“I dunno, I thought it was,” Shane said as he reached up to cup Ryan’s cheeks. They were hot enough to fry an egg on, but Shane didn’t dare pull his hands away. “There a reason it’s not now?”

“I just,” Ryan swallowed. “It’s okay?”

Shane kissed the corner of his mouth. “Yeah.”

With that, Ryan yanked on Shane’s shoulders, trying some sort of insane strong-man maneuver, but Shane was not prepared. Arms flailing like an inflatable car lot tube man, Shane flopped onto the other side of the couch, somehow pulling Ryan down with him. When they finally stopped moving, Ryan was draped across Shane’s chest, his forehead pressed into Shane’s sternum and his hands clutched in Shane’s shirt. Meanwhile one of Shane’s feet was on the floor, the other was hooked around Ryan’s leg, and his hands were gripping onto the couch cushions for dear life. They cracked up, Ryan wheezing into Shane’s shirt while Shane shook all over from the laughter. It was so stupid and funny that Shane didn’t even care that something in Ryan’s pocket was digging into his hip.

“Uh. Whoops?” Ryan said as he bit down a giggle.

“What the fuck were you even tryin’ to do?” Shane asked as he wiped at his eyes.

“I was gonna pull you into my lap, all smooth and shit.”

“We’re too drunk for your sexy muscle moves, Ryan,” Shane pointed out as he slid a hand into Ryan’s hair. “But the effort is appreciated.”

Ryan flexed his biceps. “It’s my go-to move. Gotta use these bad boys for something, am I right?” 

“Well, use ‘em for moving so your wallet or whatever that is isn’t digging into my hip.”

A deep flush spread down Ryan’s neck under the collar of his shirt. “Um. My wallet’s not in my pocket.”

“Then what— _oh_.” The realization hit Shane like a high-speed train. “ _That’s_ what that feels like?”

“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed as he pushed himself up off of Shane. “Sorry.”

Shane grabbed a fistful of Ryan’s t-shirt to pull him back down. “Don’t be. I said it’s okay, I meant it.”

Taking that as the sign of encouragement Shane hoped he would, Ryan rolled his hips down, pressing his hard dick back against Shane. Like kissing, it was different and unusual, but no part of Shane wanted it to stop. He mouthed along Ryan’s jawline, sucking and nipping at the skin as he tilted his own hips up. The moment he felt Ryan’s dick drag against his own, Shane let out a small moan, desperate for more. After adding that to the ever-growing list of things Shane didn’t know would give him a boner, he figured fuck it. Might as well see what else there was.

“Can we go to your room?” Shane asked.

“Yes,” Ryan said immediately before a line of anxiety etched itself across his face. “If...if you’re sure, I mean. It’s okay if you’re not.”

“Ryan,” Shane laughed in exasperation. “I was the one who asked. I’m sure.”

Ryan kissed the laugh right out of him. “Then yeah, big guy. Let’s go.”  


* * *

Ryan’s bedroom was a disaster. Clothes and shoes all over the floor, half a dozen La Croix cans were scattered around the desk, and his bed looked like it hadn’t been made in days. But it didn’t matter. There was no place Shane would rather be. 

They fell onto the bed together in a heap of uncoordinated limbs, arms smacking against sides, feet knocking into shins, shirts pushed up but still on. It had been a long time since Shane had had drunk sex, especially with someone for the first time, and he’d forgotten how messy it could be. With his inhibitions gone, however, Shane could touch what he wanted to touch and kiss what he wanted to kiss without his brain working overtime to explain or justify it. The freedom to suck a mark into Ryan’s throat, near his adam’s apple, and not worry about tomorrow was going to be worth every second of the inevitable hangover.

Eventually they lost their shirts, and the feeling of Ryan’s chest against his was unlike anything Shane had ever felt before. Shane knew Ryan was muscular, of course, but feeling that pressed against him left Shane completely and utterly gobsmacked. 

“Jesus Christ,” Shane muttered, sliding his hand up Ryan’s abs to settle over his chest. “I didn’t know bodies could feel like this.”

“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” Ryan said apologetically. 

“Ryan, you can see the tent in my pants, it doesn’t fucking matter what I’m used to.” Shane slid his hand back down Ryan’s stomach until he could spread his palm out near the waistband of his jeans. “New life experiences are very important to spiritual and physical growth.”

“Physical growth, huh?” Ryan asked, unable to hide his laughter.

“Feel it for yourself, baby,” Shane dared.

Ryan did, cupping Shane through his pants. “Fuck. That, uh, that feels like a lot of growth there, big guy.”

Shane copied him, cupping his hand over Ryan’s dick. He was so hard, even in his pants, that it made Shane shudder. He couldn’t believe he had this effect on any man, let alone Ryan. “I’m feeling a lot too, Ryan. For what it’s worth.”

“Okay, fuck this, pants needs to be off right fuckin’ now,” Ryan said, tugging on Shane’s button and zipper. 

Shane did the same to Ryan’s jeans. “No argument here.”

The lack of their finely-tuned motor skills meant it wasn’t an easy undressing (Ryan’s tight jeans took an especially long time to peel off), but it was worth every second of frustration to get the end result: a naked and hard and utterly gorgeous Ryan Bergara spread out on the sheets.

Shane didn’t want to waste another second. He had to feel him, had to know what it was like, had to find out if it was as good as he imagined. So, Shane wrapped his right hand around Ryan’s dick. 

Shane had always assumed it would feel like jerking off, since the basic motions were all the same. Initially, it did, albeit with a dick that was wider and shorter than his own, but as Shane moved his grip, he realized how wrong he had been. This wasn’t his dick. This dick belonged to another man. To _Ryan_. Ryan Steven Bergara, the only person who could talk Shane into ghost hunting and starting their own company together. The only person who loved Jurassic Park and soundscapes as much as Shane did. The only person— _man_ —that Shane thought about when he was alone, hand wrapped around his own dick. 

And now, here he was, spreading precome down Ryan’s dick while his own twitched to full hardness.

Yeah, not like jerking off at all.

“ _Shane_ ,” Ryan choked out, arching into his hand. “I’m not gonna last, hold up.”

“Really?” Shane marveled. “I just got started.”

“Yeah, well, your hand feels, _shit_ , great, so slow the fuck down.”

“Can’t,” Shane said truthfully as he moved his hand back up and down Ryan’s dick. The slick, hard heat was addicting, way better than it had ever felt on himself. “It feels too good for me, too.”

“You fuckin’—oh fuck!” Ryan’s hips snapped up once more as he came. Shane's hand paused as he felt Ryan's cock pulse beneath his grasp, having never felt a dick swell and flex like that without being swept up in his own orgasm. Realizing that he had stopped, he quickly resumed stroking Ryan’s dick as Ryan finished. He hoped that his momentary hesitation hadn't ruined Ryan's orgasm—or worse, that he didn't think that Shane had been grossed out. Nothing could be further from the truth. Shane had done that, he had made Ryan come, and that was a bigger turn-on than he could have imagined.

“Told you I was close,” Ryan grumbled. “Asshole, you should’ve slowed down.”

“I couldn’t stop.”

“Whatever,” Ryan sighed before stretching to grab some tissues from his bedside table. In his drunkenness, he pulled out half the tissues from the box and scattered them all over the bed. With a shrug, Ryan wiped himself up before handing Shane a few for himself, but Shane didn’t take them. More than curiosity (although there was that too), he wanted to show Ryan that he was truly into this, into him. 

Eyes locked on Ryan’s, Shane lifted his hand to his mouth and licked Ryan’s come off his fingers. 

It was...well, it wasn’t the best thing Shane had ever tasted. At least it didn’t taste that different from his own. But the look on Ryan’s face, his eyes wide and his jaw slack, that was enough to make Shane clean off his hand completely.

The exact moment he was done, Ryan tackled him, rolling them over so that Shane was against the bed now while Ryan straddled him. He’d nearly rolled them off the bed, but he was so tightly bracketed around Shane that Shane knew they weren’t going anywhere. It was breathtaking to be tossed around like that, so easily and securely. It made Shane’s head spin, or maybe that was from the tequila. Regardless, Shane loved it. He grabbed Ryan’s arms, his hands curled around his biceps, and pulled him down for a kiss.

“That was so good, Shane, fuck,” Ryan mumbled against his mouth. “I can’t...I never imagined.”

“It’s just come, Ryan, it’s not a big deal.”

Ryan shook his head, his too-long bangs falling into his eyes. “You have no idea, do you?”

“No idea of what?”

Ryan pressed their foreheads together, their noses sliding against one another. Shane gripped the back of Ryan’s neck to hold him there, his fingers clutching at the short and sweaty hair. They had never been this physically close, sharing breaths and sweat and heat, and Shane couldn’t find a reason why they hadn’t done this sooner. Except for the obvious one.

When Ryan spoke again, his voice was rough.

“No idea of how I’m about to blow your fuckin’ mind, big guy.”

“Blow, huh?” Shane grinned.

“That’s the idea.”

Shane let out a low breath while Ryan began kissing down Shane’s neck and chest. The booze was hitting him harder now, the ceiling was spinning and the overhead light burning harshly, but Shane wasn’t about to shut his eyes. Not now.

Ryan was in between Shane’s legs, his hands splayed across Shane’s thighs. He wasn’t trying to hold them apart or anything, simply touching them with as much of his hands as he could. 

“Everything okay?” Shane asked, sitting up on his elbows.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ryan said, giving Shane’s thighs a squeeze. “Just. You’ve got long legs, dude.”

“Some people might even call me, wait for it, _Long Legs_.”

“Some people might even tell you to shut the fuck up,” Ryan shot back, although there was no bite in it. 

Shane started to laugh, but he was quickly cut off by Ryan closing his mouth around Shane’s cock. He groaned, falling back against the pillows and sliding one hand into Ryan’s hair. Ryan felt incredible, his tongue working the underside of Shane’s cock while he gently rolled Shane’s balls in between his fingers. It amazed Shane that Ryan could be like this, that he could multitask while drunk on liquor and high on his own orgasm. Shane wondered if he was always like this in bed or if tonight was special.

If _Shane_ was special.

Then Ryan opened his throat to swallow Shane down and every single thought vanished from Shane’s mind.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck, _Ryan_ ,” Shane babbled, his fingers clenching in his hair. 

Ryan pulled off, looking up at Shane with dark eyes. “Are you close?” 

“Yeah, fuck, think so.”

Ryan let go of Shane’s cock. “Don’t come, not yet. Please?”

“Jesus,” Shane gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why the fuck not?”

Ryan mumbled something that Shane couldn’t make out, his brain was lacking too much oxygen thanks to the alcohol and impending orgasm. He needed Ryan touching him again more than he needed anything ever before in his life. 

“Ry, I need it, please, I need you, touch me, _please_ ,” Shane whined.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Shane continued to ramble, so desperate for Ryan to touch him again. It never crossed his mind to do it himself. “It’s so much better than I thought, c’mon Ryan, please.”

“Okay okay okay, I got you, big guy, I got you.”

Shane reopened his eyes in time to see Ryan close his lips back around Shane’s cock. Goddamn, it was a sight, Ryan’s lips red and swollen, his hair messy from Shane’s fingers, sweat gleaming off his gorgeous arms. He was so _hot_ , in every sense of the word, and Shane couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck—!” 

Shane arched off the bed into Ryan’s mouth, coming with a groan. Ryan had to pull off before Shane was done, so the last bit landed on his cheek. Shane groaned again.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, reaching out for Ryan. “Holy _shit_.”

“You’re welcome,” Ryan said with a smirk. His voice was rough enough that Shane’s dick gave one final twitch. “You, uh, really enjoyed that, huh?”

“Shut up and kiss me right this instant,” Shane demanded, pulling on Ryan’s arms.

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up but he went easily, falling against Shane’s chest and pressing their mouths together. Tasting himself on Ryan’s tongue, Ryan’s stubble under his fingertips, Ryan’s soft dick laying against Shane’s stomach, it was all so undeniably...well, _gay_. Shane couldn’t even begin to unravel all of that, but he also found that he didn’t really care, either. He was so satisfied and blissed out and just plain happy that none of the details mattered. 

Shane wiped the little bit of come left on Ryan’s cheek off. Might as well go all out, huh?

“I’ll get a tissue.”

“Don’t,” Shane said before licking it off his thumb. 

“ _Shane_ ,” Ryan shuddered. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

“Just seeing what all the fuss is about.”

“And?”

“Yours is better,” Shane whispered. Whatever filter he once possessed was completely obliterated at this point.

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan murmured as he traced a thumb over the planes of Shane’s face. He nearly poked Shane in the eye. “Who are you?”

“Shane Madej, your partner in both ghouls and business. Why do you ask?”

Ryan shook his head as he slid out of bed. “Nevermind.”

Shane stretched his arms out, fruitlessly reaching for Ryan. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“Gettin’ the light.”

“Oh. Well, hurry.”

Ryan clicked the overhead light off and stumbled back into bed. In the darkness, it took them a couple clumsy minutes to get under the sheets and situated. Ryan ended up half-on Shane’s chest, his head tucked up under Shane’s chin, while Shane wrapped his arms around him as best he could.

“So, this is good?” Ryan asked once they were settled.

“I’m comfy. Are you?”

“I am. I’m just making sure you are. It’s okay if you’re not,” Ryan added in a small voice.

Shane kissed the top of Ryan’s head. “There is no place I’d rather be, baby.”

As Shane drifted to sleep, he could feel the side of his brain that craved tidy, neat answers begging for an explanation. He didn’t have one, but he did have Ryan fast asleep in his arms. That was all that mattered.  


* * *

_*bzzzz….bzzzz….bzzzz*_

“Mmph,” Shane grumbled. Something warm was draped across his chest and something else was buzzing and everything hurt.

_*bzzzz….bzzzz….bzzzz*_

He blinked awake, although everything was blurry and slightly off-kilter. It took him a few moments to recognize Ryan’s bedroom, his Back to the Future and Indiana Jones posters staring back at him. It took another few moments for Shane to realize it was Ryan’s arm laying across his chest because Ryan was sound asleep right next to him.

_*bzzzz….bzzzz….bzzzz*_

“What the fuck?” Shane whispered, his voice a rough croak. The buzzing was coming from somewhere on the floor. He had to make it stop, if for no other reason than to make sure it didn’t wake Ryan up. Clutching his pounding head in one hand, Shane slipped out of bed to find the offending noise. After picking up a half-dozen different pieces of clothing, Shane finally found it coming from his own pants pocket.

_3 missed calls from Scott Madej  
10 new messages from Scott Madej_

Shane almost threw up right there in Ryan’s bedroom. If his brother was calling this often and this early, that meant something was wrong. With a shaky hand, Shane opened his phone.

_From Scott Madej_  
SM: hey bro I know its early but call me back asap  
SM: i locked myself out of my house lol  
SM: roomies are out of town, need ur spare key  
SM: ok anytime now little man  
SM: DUDE WAKE THE FUCK UP  
SM: are u dead? Fucking come on shane answer

As Shane was reading through the rest of Scott’s messages, his phone buzzed again. With a grimace, Shane shuffled into Ryan’s bathroom and closed the door.

“Stop fucking calling me, I’m up,” he answered, sitting on the closed toilet.

“About fucking time! Where the hell have you been?”

“Asleep. It’s what people do at the ass-crack of dawn.”

“It’s after 9, man, not that early. So, can you come help your favorite brother out?”

“Ugh, fine. I’m not at my place so it might take a little while longer to get there.”

“Ooooh,” Scott teased. “Late night booty call, huh?”

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose, even though it only made his headache worse. “Do you want my help or not?”

“No judgement! But get here soon, okay? I think the neighbors across the street think I’m a prowler or something.”

They said their goodbyes and Shane let out a frustrated sigh. As thrilled as he was that there wasn’t a true family emergency, he was still plenty annoyed with his stupid brother for locking himself out of his stupid house when he was a very overwhelming mix of hungover, confused, and fulfilled. Scott was going to owe him big time.

After snagging some aspirin and water from Ryan’s bathroom, Shane quietly got dressed. Miraculously, Ryan was still asleep, his breathing deep and even in a way Shane had never heard before. Shane hated to leave him, but he didn’t dare disturb his sleep, either. If anyone deserved to stave off a hangover as long as possible, it was Ryan.

He grabbed a piece of printer paper from Ryan’s desk and quickly scribbled a note:

_Ryan -_

_So sorry I had to run. Scott emergency (brothers, am I right?) Everything’s ok, just have to go help him out.  
Left you some water and aspirin. Take it easy._

_\- Shane_

Shane also texted the note to Ryan, not knowing which he would see first. He hoped it was enough so that Ryan wouldn’t worry. Not always a guarantee with him, but maybe it would work.

Before he left, Shane cleaned up the errant tissues scattered around the bed and pulled the sheets up around Ryan’s shoulders. Then Shane bent down and pressed a kiss to Ryan’s temple. Despite all the new and perplexing feelings swirling in his head this morning, Shane knew he didn’t regret anything about last night. 

Now, he just had to figure out where to go from here.

* * *

After successfully unlocking his stupid brother’s stupid house, Shane collapsed onto his couch back at his own apartment, hugging one of the throw pillows to his chest. His head was still pounding and he was pretty sure only part of that was hangover-induced.

Shane knew himself pretty well. He was funny, polite, and a little bit strange. He loved video games about cowboys, reruns of Frasier, and singing songs to his cat. He couldn’t handle spicy food, airport hot dogs, or the screaming of the spirit box. He was also self-aware enough to know that he could be a dick, that he could be too flippant in his phrasing or too stubborn to see another point of view. And he knew he was straight, only interested in dating and sleeping with women. That’s just who he was. A closed book, finished with no new chapters to discover.

Apparently, he was wrong. 

Shane had thought about it before, sure. Watching porn and noticing the guy’s giant dick and thinking, “Huh, good for him.” Saying that he was “straight, not stupid” about possibly riding Henry Cavill’s mustache. Everyone had those moments, right? Shane was secure in his sexuality, that was all.

But over the past few months, that security had started to crumble, at least when it came to Ryan. Shane blamed the long hours and the general stress of working on Watcher. They were spending entire days together and could only really talk to one another about it. Ryan and Steven were all he had, the only ones who understood how terrifying and exhilarating all of this was. It was natural for Shane to get a little overinvested and possibly curious. It made sense that Shane’s feelings were all over the place.

The only problem was that when Shane was alone, hand slick with lube, he wasn’t thinking of Steven at all, only Ryan. Of the curves of his biceps, of his infectious laugh, of his warm eyes and warmer smile. In his most desperate moments, Shane wondered what it was like, to touch him and be touched by him. He assumed that would be the moment the illusion would break, that Shane’s heterosexual brain would tap him on the shoulder and say this wasn’t for him.

Except that hadn’t happened. And it still wasn’t happening, even as Shane recounted all of last night to himself. Ryan’s stubble scraping alongside Shane’s jaw, his strong fingers pulling at Shane’s hair, his dick pulsing in Shane’s hand, even Ryan tucked up under his chin as they fell asleep. Shane liked it all. He liked it all _so much._

Shane hugged the pillow closer to his chest. How could he not have known?

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his spiral. Ryan had finally woken up.

_From Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej_  
RB: is everything ok??????  
SM: its fine. Scott just locked himself out of his house, fucking idiot. How are you doing?  
RB: i feel like shit  
SM: me too. I told you, tequila is the devil’s tonic  
RB: you must hate me. I’m so sorry  
SM: A little hangover never killed anyone, it’s fine  
RB: not for the hangover. For last night

Oh fuck. Shane sat up too quickly, causing his head to ache and Obi to leap off his nearby cat tree in a tizzy. Before he could type a response, another text came in.

RB: Im so fuckin sorry, plz dont leave watcher  
SM: I would never Ryan. please don’t be sorry, it’s ok.  
RB: its all my fault tho  
RB: i understand if u just wanna be business bros  
SM: it’s ok, seriously. You’re not at fault for anything. I wanted to.  
RB: can we meet up tonight? I owe u a dinner   
RB: but not in that way i mean. I just mean im sorry

Shane stared at his phone for over ten minutes before finally tossing it to the side so he could bury his face in his hands. This was all so fucked up.

What the hell was Ryan sorry about? For giving Shane one of the most thrilling nights of his life? Fuck. Shane did not need this on top of all of his own bullshit. 

A gentle purr came from the floor. Blindly, Shane reached down for Obi to pull him into his lap. Obi squirmed as he got comfortable, but Shane held on firmly. He needed his cat.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he muttered miserably into Obi’s fur. “Do you?”

Obi let out a small meow in response. 

“Why is he sorry? Does he think I’m mad?”

Shane hissed as Obi’s claws clenched in his shirt, the nails puncturing the thin fabric. 

“Ow, buddy. What should I say to him? I may only get one shot at this and I can’t screw it up. Watcher won’t work if we’re just, what did he say? ‘Business bros’.”

Obi butted his head against Shane’s hand, demanding more chin scratches, and with a sigh, Shane obliged. As Obi’s dulcet purrs soothed Shane’s frazzled brain, he realized there was an actual person he could talk to about all of this. The only other person who was as invested in Watcher as Shane and Ryan were.

Shane grabbed his phone again and clicked on Steven’s number. Steven may not have any experience with drunken sexual exploits, but he did have lots of experience with Ryan and Shane’s bullshit. Hopefully that would be enough.

“Good morning!” Steven’s upsettingly chipper voice beamed from the other line. 

“Ugh,” Shane grumbled. “Morning. Can we...can we talk? Privately?”

“Sure. I’m alone, what’s up?”

“Full discretion, it’s about Ryan.”

“Is he okay? I know the break-up’s been tough on him.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Shane admitted. “See, last night he and I were hanging out, getting drunk, listening to ABBA, typical Bergara break-up measures, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, things got kind of, um, spirited, and one thing led to another and,” Shane paused, his whole body suddenly itchy, “we, well, we did the deed.”

“Uh. What deed?”

Shane sighed heavily. “The _deed_ , Steven. The dirtiest one two people can do.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ Oh my gosh!”

“I know, I know, look—,” Shane started, but Steven kept talking over him.

“Finally! Congratulations, man, it has been such a long time coming. I am sincerely happy for you both,” Steven said, his trademark earnestness apparent even over the phone.

“Wait, what?” Shane asked as his head stung with a new ache.

“I know you’re probably worried about Watcher, but I think it’ll be good for the company as a whole. It might be nice to get something in writing, though, just so y’all set a precedent. But we can work those details out later.”

“I am, but that’s not—I’m not even sure— _long time coming_?” Shane asked, too confused to formulate a single coherent thought. 

“Well, yeah, man. We all knew it was just a matter of time before you guys finally made it official. Is he there, by the way? I want to give my congratulations to both of you.”

“He’s not. He thinks I’m mad at him,” Shane admitted, pointedly ignoring the part where Steven wasn’t actually surprised by their hooking up.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I called you in the first place, not because of whatever the fuck you’re talking about.”

Shane heard Steven talk a long, steady breath, like he was centering himself. “Start from the beginning.”

“Well, like I said, we were drunk last night and...stuff happened,” Shane said uneasily. He assumed Steven didn’t want those details, and Shane himself wasn’t particularly keen to give them, either. “And then this morning, my idiot brother locked himself out of his house and I had to leave to go help him. And now Ryan is blowing up my phone apologizing for last night and wanting to take me out to an apology dinner, even though I told him he has nothing to be sorry about. I don’t have any idea of what to say to him now.”

“Was he like that when you left this morning?”

“I didn’t wake him up, I don’t know.”

“Dude,” Steven said, not bothering to keep the judgement out of his voice. “I have never had sex and even I know you don’t leave the other person like that in the morning.”

“I left him a note!” Shane explained as an icy cold panic struck his heart. “Two notes, in fact! And water and aspirin! I didn’t want to leave, but Scott wouldn’t stop calling me. And Ryan was sleeping so well, and you know how rare that is.”

“I do, but this is Ryan. Imagine you’re him and you wake up after sleeping with your best friend for the first time and he’s gone. No note on earth is going to calm him down,” Steven explained with more kindness than Shane felt he deserved.

“Fuck. I fucked this up, didn’t I?” Shane asked miserably.

“I don’t know about that,” Steven said. “Ryan loves you, he’ll forgive you.”

Shane’s heart skipped a beat. “He what?”

“Um. Did...did you not know that?” 

“Does it sound like I knew that?!’ Shane asked, near-hysterical. This morning was getting more stressful by the minute. “Are you sure?”

“Uh, I’m not sure if that’s my answer to give you,” Steven said, which was as much of a confirmation as anything. “I’m sorry, I really thought you knew and were figuring out sexuality stuff on your end.”

“Apparently I don’t know a lot of things,” Shane sighed. “No wonder he’s upset.”

“Do you need me to talk to him? I can, if you think it will help,” Steven offered.

“No? Or at least, not right now. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, Steven, I really don’t.”

“The offer still stands if you change your mind. It is kind of important to me that you two get along.”

“I know, I know,” Shane said as fresh guilt pooled in the pit of his stomach. “I promise I’ll fix it. Watcher means everything to me and Ryan, whatever happens. We won’t let it get in the way of that.”

“I appreciate the reassurance, but Shane,” Steven said, his voice softening, “it’s okay if you guys decide to be more. We’ll figure it out.”

Shane wasn’t so sure about that, but he agreed anyway. “Okay.”

“Well, let me know what happens, alright?”

“I will. Thanks Steven.”

They hung up and Shane promptly collapsed on his stomach onto the couch, trying very hard to melt into the cushion. This was so much more fucked up than Shane had even thought. Ryan was in love with him and they had slept together and Shane had left. Of course Ryan took that as a sign of regret, regardless of what Shane said. He’d been too cavalier, too focused on his own bullshit and not on Ryan’s, and now everything they’d worked so hard for was hanging precariously in the balance.

Feeling like an absolute monster, Shane very seriously considered moving to Iceland to work on a fishing boat. It would be for the best. He wouldn’t be able to hurt Ryan again, and he did miss the snow. And Obi would get to eat fresh fish every day.

Unfortunately, Shane had invested pretty much all of his savings into Watcher, and that didn’t leave a lot left over for the fisherman's life. He was going to have to stay put and fix this, somehow.

But he couldn’t do it in this state. He needed to shower and eat and be a human being first. Whatever was going to happen next, Ryan deserved Shane at his best. And Shane was going to give it to him.  


* * *

Shane wasn’t quite back to human being status when Ryan played his hand. He was still dripping from the shower when he saw the text.

_From Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej_  
RB: sry about asking to do dinner. That was weird. Ill work from home this week dont worry

It had been almost three hours and Shane had never responded, so of course Ryan thought that meant Shane really was mad at him. Once again, Shane had been too careless with Ryan’s delicate heart. Why Ryan was supposedly in love with him was a mystery.

Shane laid down on his bed. A stray droplet of water ran down the back of his hand, falling onto his chest. Like it so often did, Shane’s mind immediately went to Jurassic Park, when Jeff Goldblum taught Laura Dern about chaos theory, explaining that water wouldn’t fall off her hand the same way again due to all the small, infinite variations in the universe. Shane traced the line his own water droplet made, down his wrist and onto his stomach. 

His entire relationship with Ryan had always run the same path. Even when they became business partners, their basic dynamic had remained the same, the two of them joking and working and stressing together. But last night, the path had diverted, the water flowing in a completely different direction for the first time in almost five years.

Dr. Ian Malcolm would argue that a butterfly flapping its wings in China led to Shane kissing Ryan. Others might blame the Patrón. In his heart, Shane knew neither were right. It was all him. He had kissed Ryan because he wanted to, and he would do it again. He would do it as many times as Ryan would let him, because that’s what you do when you love somebody.

Shane picked up his phone and clicked on Ryan’s number. He still had questions, maybe ones he’d never know the answer to, but he did have the most important answer. That was all that mattered.

“Um, hey,” Ryan answered, his voice as scratchy as sandpaper.

“We should have dinner tonight,” Shane said without any further ado.

“Oh okay. You can pick, I’ll pay, wherever—,”

“No, dinner’s on me. I’ll cook.”

“But—”

“No ifs, ands, or buts, okay? Dinner. My place. Tonight.”

Ryan didn’t respond for exactly six seconds. Shane knew because he counted them.

“I’ve—I’ve got some Watcher emails to answer. And I gotta shower and shit,” he finally said. “But I’ll be there.”

“I can’t wait.”  


* * *

This had the potential to be one of the most monumental nights of Shane’s life. It could affect his career, his friendships, his own sense of self, and the relationship with his favorite person on the planet.

So why the fuck had he suggested he cook a homemade dinner?

“Obi! Out!” Shane shouted as his cat tried to steal a bit of lobster for the umpteenth time. Obi obediently ran, but Shane knew that soon he’d be back, and with greater determination. 

The one thing Shane had going for him was that lobster macaroni and cheese wasn’t all that complicated. A little expensive, perhaps, but Shane could live on PB&Js for the next week if he had to. But the time he spent assembling it was really cutting into his date prep, and Shane was not going to be able to learn the Lakers starting line-up if his damn cat didn’t stop snooping around.

After sticking the mac and cheese back in the oven for the topping to crisp up, Shane got both the vacuum and his phone out, so he could clean and study basketball at the same time. It wasn’t the smoothest plan (he vacuumed up one of Obi’s cat toys that took a good four minutes to rescue), but he also did learn what a point guard was, so it evened out.

Next, he changed into his most tried-and-true date outfit, khaki chinos and a pink button-up shirt. He even put a bit of product into his hair, hoping it would keep the longer bits from falling down in his face. Shane was debating whether or not to bust out the cologne his mom had bought him for his birthday when his phone buzzed. Ryan was on his way over. He quickly dabbed some of the cologne on his neck. 

“Batten the hatches, dear Obi!” Shane shouted as he ran around his apartment, lighting candles, cleaning up the kitchen, and adjusting the volume of his most romantic indie playlist. Obi, meanwhile, just stared at him unhelpfully from his cat tree.

“I think that’s—oh shit, the flowers!” Shane whirled around to grab the small makeshift vase full of multicolored flowers. He set it in the center of his kitchen table. There. Now everything was ready for the most romantic night of Ryan Bergara’s life.

_*knock* *knock*_

Shane straightened out his shirt and took a deep breath. His hand trembled the tiniest bit as he pulled open his front door, so Shane very resolutely turned off that part of his brain. He couldn’t be nervous in front of Ryan, not tonight.

“Ryan Bergara! Welcome to my humble abode!”

Ryan stared at him from behind his glasses. He was dressed in basketball shorts, an old Unsolved shirt, a zip-up hoodie, and that baseball hat with a logo of a baseball hat on it. Shane couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Uh, hi.”

“Come in, come in!” Shane stepped aside, bowing graciously. “Can I take your coat?”

“Uh. Sure,” Ryan said, shrugging off his hoodie. 

Shane took the sweatshirt and hung it up in his coat closet while Ryan stood in the entryway, his hands dug into his pockets. 

“Make yourself at home! Dinner should be ready any minute, so take a load off, relax.”

Ryan sniffed the air. “What did you make? It smells really good.”

“Lobster mac and cheese! And some roasted broccoli for the semblance of nutrition.”

“Lobster? Dude.”

“Oh shit, you’re not allergic, are you? I thought it was just scallops,” Shane asked, panic striking his chest. 

“No, it is. Just seems pretty fancy, that’s all. Not sure I’m dressed for it,” Ryan said, picking at his t-shirt.

“Nonsense, you look great!” Shane insisted. “Now, what do you want to drink? I picked up a bunch of IPAs, or I’ve got a bottle of wine, and there’s the minibar too. What’s your poison?”

“Oh, um, I’m probably gonna stick with water tonight,” Ryan said, scratching the back of his neck. 

“You sure? I’m not an IPA guy, so they’re not going to do me any good.”

“Yeah,” Ryan swallowed. “It’s probably for the best, you know?”

“Right,” Shane said with a gulp of his own. “I’ve got water, of course, so no worries there. La Croix too, if you like.”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

Shane busied himself with Ryan’s water, making sure it was perfection. Ryan deserved it.

“One lime La Croix for the gentleman,” Shane announced, presenting Ryan with his drink.

“You even put a lime in it. Wow.”

“Only the best for my guest!” Shane said with a wink. Ryan nearly choked on his water.

The oven went off right after that. Shane pulled the lobster mac and cheese and broccoli out and set them on his stove. It really did smell delicious, if Shane said so himself.

“Can I help with anything?” Ryan asked, hovering near the fridge. 

“Nope! I’ll get the plates.”

He scooped generous servings of pasta and broccoli onto two plates and set them on his kitchen table. Before Ryan could sit, Shane pulled out his chair for him. 

“Your dinner awaits!”

“Uh. What the hell is going on here?” Ryan asked.

“Dinner!” Shane said simply. 

Ryan sat down gingerly, like he expected the chair to give way the second he put his weight on it. When it didn’t, he continued to eye Shane suspiciously while they ate.

“S’good,” Ryan mumbled in between bites.

“Yeah? Why thank you.”

It looked like Ryan opened his mouth to speak again, but instead he shoved a mouthful of cheese and lobster into it. An uneasy silence fell over them, the only noise coming from the clinks of their silverware against the plates and The Magnetic Fields crooning away in the background. Shane had to get this back on track.

“So,” Shane said as he took a sip of water. “I hear the Lakers are looking to trade Kuzma. What’s that going to mean for the rest of the season?”

Ryan dropped his fork with a clang. “What the fuck?”

“LeBron and Davis are good, but are they enough to keep them in playoff contention without Kuzma?”

“I— _what_?!”

Shane continued. “They’re doing well enough in the conference that I’m not sure it will make a huge difference, but I’d love to get your thoughts on it.”

Abruptly, Ryan shoved away from the table. “Okay, I’m going to my car.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’ve got a small bottle of holy water in my dashboard and I’m obviously going to need it to exorcise whatever fucking demon has possessed you,” he said with narrowed eyes.

“What?” Shane asked, affronted. “Can’t a guy take interest in your interests without being accused of such devilry?”

“Actually, he can’t, because the same guy once so memorably told me that it didn’t matter if the Lakers did well every season because they had already won, and I quote, ‘the World Series’,” Ryan said, peering over the rims of his glasses at Shane. “So, I’m pretty sure you’re possessed or a pod person or an evil clone. It would explain _a lot_ about you lately.”

Every muscle in Shane’s body tightened at once. Ryan assuming Shane would only sleep with him if he was possessed broke his heart and pissed him off in equal measure.

“Or maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” Shane argued, spearing broccoli with more force than was necessary. 

“Nah. I know you, big guy,” Ryan said dismissively, which just pissed Shane off even more. “So, explain yourself.” 

“I don’t have to explain shit to you. It is perfectly normal to want to learn new things, even about your precious fucking Lakers. So excuse me for wanting to share that with you.”

“But you’ve never shown an iota of interest in them before,” Ryan pointed out, giving Shane a hard stare. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Wow, suddenly he cares about things making sense,” Shane muttered sarcastically before taking a long pull of his water. When he spoke again, he held Ryan’s gaze without blinking. “People change. _Interests_ change.”

“Not yours. You’re the stubbornest bastard in the world. Nothing about you ever changes except for your stupid mustache.”

Shane sat with that for a long moment. It hurt, stinging with truth the way only someone who knew him so well could do. His eyes flickered over to the flowers he’d bought. Ryan hadn’t even noticed them.

“I can change, Ryan. I already have. And if anything, I thought you’d be happy about it. Happy that I’m...that I’m into sports, now. Guess I was wrong.”

Ryan opened his mouth, looking ready to spit fire back, until his gaze followed Shane’s towards the bouquet sitting between them. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed so tightly that Shane could almost hear the sleeves of his t-shirt crying out from the strain. 

“I’m not...I’m not unhappy about it,” Ryan finally muttered. “I just don’t get it.”

“You think I do?” Shane spread his arms out with a shrug. “I don’t understand any of it. But apparently this is who I am now. A guy who likes sports.”

Shane had not planned on using a sports metaphor, of all things, to talk to Ryan about this, but it was working in its own way. It wasn’t lost on him that it was also much easier to hide behind it than to just say what he really meant. Baby steps.

“But how? You’ve never even watched a game or played—,” Ryan stopped short, his eyes going wide. His arms dropped comically as he stared slack jawed at Shane. Shane gave him a thin smile and a nod. Took him long enough.

“ _Ooooooh,_ ” Ryan breathed. “Dude. Holy shit.”

“Kind of a big reaction for the person I played my first one-on-one with just last night.”

“But that shouldn’t...it doesn’t, I wasn’t,” Ryan rambled, his hand running through his hair and knocking off his hat in the process. “But you were only indulging me, it wasn’t...I should’ve made sure you wanted to, that you wanted to play.”

“You have a very different memory of last night than me. Because you did, you asked every five minutes if it was okay. And every single time I said yes,” Shane ended, tapping his finger against the table with every syllable.

“We were drunk. It’s okay, I wanted it, but we were drunk. Lots of people do shit they wouldn’t normally do when they’re wasted,” Ryan continued, almost more to himself than Shane.

“And lots of people do things they don’t have the stones to do _unless_ they’re wasted,” Shane said, ignoring the heat flooding his neck. “There’s a reason they call it ‘liquid courage.’”

“B-but you can’t—you don’t,” Ryan sputtered. “You _left_.”

Steven was right. It didn’t matter what Shane said or how many notes he left, Ryan didn’t believe him about this. He really thought Shane regretted it, that he skedaddled out of Ryan’s bedroom as fast as his long legs could carry him. 

It felt more awful than Shane would have ever expected. He had to fix this.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I really did have to help Scott, but I should’ve woken you up. Should’ve talked to you and told you then.”

“Told me what?”

The switch in Shane’s brain that turned off his nerves was threatening to flip back on, but he held firm. Ryan needed it from him now more than ever. 

“That I liked it. I liked it _so much_ , Ryan.”

But Ryan’s eternal, pathological desire to look beyond reason reared its ugly head. 

“Your first time should’ve been with someone you wanted,” he said, resigned and miserable. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

“ _Ryan_ ,” Shane said in pained exasperation as the switch flipped. Adrenaline flooded Shane’s veins as he watched Ryan pick up a stray piece of lobster from his plate and chew it slowly, very pointedly not looking in Shane’s direction at all. So much for fixing this with words. He had to show Ryan how he felt. Right now.

Shane stood up so quickly that his chair fell over, but he ignored it. With two large steps he rounded the table, leaned over, cupped Ryan’s cheeks, and pressed their mouths together. Ryan was frozen underneath him so Shane pulled back but stayed close.

“I like _you_ so much, you gigantic dummy.”

“You do?” Ryan stared at him, his eyes large and his hands twisting together. “Wait...am _I_ sports?”

“Jesus,” Shane snorted. “Yes, what did you think I was saying?”

“That you were into dudes because of basketball? I wasn’t totally following, to be honest, it was confusing.”

“How? We’re on a date!”

“This is a date?!”

A dam broke. All of Shane’s nerves exploded in a fit of uncontrollable laughter as he doubled over to hold his stomach. As he always was, Ryan was right there with him, cackling and slapping his knee. Shane dissolved onto the floor as tears poured from his eyes. Every time he thought he was done, he’d see Ryan shaking with giggles and his own laughs would start all over again. 

“Of-of course you didn’t know! I never said!” Shane wheezed, barely able to finish the thought. “I’m like 0-3 from the line today.”

“Oh God, don’t,” Ryan groaned. “I’m gonna bust a nut in my shorts.”

Shane could hardly breathe, he was laughing so hard. “ _What?!_ ”

“Stop saying basketball shit, it goes straight to my dick.”

“Oh no, can’t have that,” Shane said as he quickly tried to recall more basketball terms from his research. “I’m in the paint, Ryan, I’ve been double dribbling and I fouled out.”

Ryan slid out of his chair to join Shane on the floor. He laid down as close to Shane as he could without touching him. “Fuck you, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“I made a hook shot from the three-point-line, just like, uh, LeBron.”

“Stop.”

“Coach Lim will be proud. Won’t he, Ryan? Won’t he be so proud of my jump shot and my rebounds and my chest passes?”

“Ughhhhhhhh,” Ryan groaned, curling in towards Shane. “Seriously, stop, this is torture.”

“Or we can keep going,” Shane said, very carefully laying his hand on top of Ryan’s head. Their laughter stopped as quickly as it started. “There are fresh sheets on my bed.”

“You sure?” Ryan asked, again, like it was an automated response when he was presented with something he really wanted. Then Shane realized that’s exactly what it was.

Softly, Shane told him, “Yes, Ryan. I’m sure.”

The familiar glint in Ryan’s eyes made Shane soar. There was that ol’ Bergara belief.

“Then c’mon, big guy. Let’s hit the lockers.”  


* * *

“So, this is my room,” Shane announced as he led Ryan inside, their hands clasped together. “Or, er, the lockers, I should say. Whattya say we get out of our costumes and into something more comfortable?”

“Costumes?” Ryan snickered. “Do you mean uniforms?”

“Same thing,” Shane said, waving his hand. “Great game out there. Lots of stellar moves and ball handling.”

“I am an excellent ball handler,” Ryan grinned.

“Oh, trust me, I remember. You were exquisite. The best baller the Lakers have ever seen, baby!”

Ryan groaned, face planting into Shane’s chest, his hands gripping Shane’s side. “Time out.”

Shane found Ryan’s hips. He was already so warm, even through his clothes. “But we’re supposed to run D on each other, just like Coach said.”

“No, actual time out,” Ryan clarified. He pulled back enough to speak, although still close enough to run his fingers over the buttons in Shane’s button-up. “Can we not do the basketball stuff?”

Shane swallowed his confusion down. “I thought you were into it.”

“I’m too into it. I’m already hard as a fucking rock and we’ve barely done anything,” he explained, pressing up against Shane so he could feel exactly hard he was. “And tonight I want this to last longer than five minutes.”

“Jesus,” Shane murmured. “How do you even play basketball if you're always like this? It must be quite the boner headache.”

Ryan rolled his eyes as he walked Shane towards his bed. “The only boner headaches I get are from you, big guy. I mean, the pink shirt? Seriously?”

“You like it, huh?” 

Ryan grabbed Shane by the lapels to pull him down. “You have no idea.”

Shane didn’t waste another second, pressing their lips together in a searing kiss. It was already better than he remembered, everything sharper now that they were sober. Every time Shane pushed further into Ryan’s mouth, Ryan pushed right back, their usual rhythm playing out in a new yet familiar way. 

They tumbled onto the bed, Ryan on his back and Shane on top. They kissed like that for a while, up and down each other’s throats until their lips were equally red and tender. It was nice, to just make out without rushing to get to the main event. Shane was able to notice things he hadn’t last night, like the way Ryan’s hands roved all over Shane’s body, from his hair to his hips to his non-existent ass. Or how noisy Ryan was, his mouth a constant source of swears and groans. The “Fuck!” that ripped out of him when Shane sucked a mark into the crook of his neck was going to haunt him for the rest of his days.

Shane rolled his hips down so Ryan could feel him now. “Can we—?”

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“For starters, for you to take your gym shorts off. Also those horrific socks.”

Ryan began shimmying out of his shorts, but he stopped with a frown. “What’s wrong with my socks?”

“Everything.” 

Abruptly, Ryan rolled them over, his hands tight on Shane’s waist. Shane let out a little “oof” as he clutched onto Ryan’s shoulders. He was never going to get tired of that.

“You sure about that, big guy?” Ryan cupped Shane through his pants, pressing the heel of his hand against him. “‘Cause to me it feels like you like my socks just fine.”

“No, that’s how much I like the rest of you,” Shane said as he arched up into Ryan’s touch. 

A big smile erupted on Ryan’s face as he began unbuttoning Shane’s shirt. “So after I take my shorts and very stylish socks off, what do you want?”

“Oh. I don’t know. You’re the one who knows what he’s doing here, you pick.”

Ryan helped Shane out of his button-up and undershirt before settling his palm against Shane’s stomach. “Yeah, but you’re the one who’s never done this stuff before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or, like, pressure you into something.”

“Ryan Bergara, when have you ever in your life made _me_ do something I didn’t want to do?”

“I mean...ghost hunting?” Ryan suggested as he tossed his t-shirt into a corner.

“Which I still enjoy because I get to watch you scream your fool head off at nothing for eight hours,” Shane reminded him. “So, lay it on me, Bergmeister. Tell me what you want out of this meatsack.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Ryan sat back on his haunches, looking Shane up and down, like he was surveying Shane’s body. “I want to touch you, Shane. All over, from your stupid, thick, shiny hair all the way down to your gigantic feet.”

“Oh, so you’re ‘showfeetguy’, I see,” Shane cut-in with a smirk.

Ryan just stared at him unamused for a few seconds before continuing. “I wanna get my mouth on you again and really take my time, blow your fucking mind. And then I wanna know how big this height difference really is, see if you can do the same for me on your knees.”

Shane swallowed as his cock twitched in his chinos. He wanted to know, too.

Ryan continued, leaving his fingerprints all over Shane’s bare skin. “Then I want to show you how to use your fingers, on me and on yourself. They’re fucking perfect for it, manicured and long, I bet they feel fucking amazing.”

“They do,” Shane confirmed with a wink.

Ryan’s hands froze on Shane’s shoulders. “Oh shit. Really?”

“Don’t get too excited, I’ve only done it a few times. I’m sure I could stand to learn a few pointers.”

“Fuck.” Ryan leaned over, rubbing his forehead against Shane’s. “I’d love to see that.”

Shane held the back of Ryan’s neck to keep him close. “What else do you wanna see?”

“Wanna see you over top of me, fucking me,” Ryan told him, his voice low and raspy. His cock was pressed hard against Shane’s stomach now. “I think about it all the time, how it would feel, how good it would be.”

With his free hand, Shane haphazardly shoved Ryan’s shorts and underwear down just far enough to free his cock. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to touch him. 

“I’ll make sure it feels so good, Ryan,” Shane promised as he closed a hand around him. It felt even better than last night, Ryan all slick and hard for him. “You can teach me, show me how to do it.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ryan groaned as he scrambled to undo Shane’s pants. When he pulled Shane’s cock out, they both shuddered. “I’ll be the best fucking teacher you ever had.”

“You will be the only _fucking teacher_ I ever had,” Shane told him with a grin.

Ryan cackled, loud and bright. “That’s good.”

“Only the best— _oh my god_ ,” Shane gasped as his and Ryan’s cocks rubbed against each other. 

“Feels good, right?” Ryan asked as he rolled his hips forward, his cock going through Shane’s fingers to touch Shane’s again. 

“Good” only barely began to cover it, but Shane still needed more. He opened his hand so he could hold both of them, and it was almost too much. Feeling Ryan rub against the most sensitive parts of himself flipped off every switch Shane had ever turned on, leaving him completely vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt this raw and cracked open, or if he ever had.

“Ryan,” Shane choked out, his voice wavering. He knew he needed to move his hand but it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Here, I got it, it’s okay,” Ryan said as he replaced Shane’s hand with his own. “It’s okay, Shane.”

Shane just nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. All he could feel was Ryan, his hand and dick tight and hard against his own, his hair sweaty under Shane’s hand, his gaze heavy on Shane. Shane shut his eyes in an attempt to keep himself together, but it didn’t work. He felt a couple traitorous tears fall down his face instead.

“It’s okay, Shane,” Ryan repeated. He sounded as wrecked as Shane felt. “You’re okay.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, trying to wipe at his face.

“Don’t be,” Ryan said shakily. Shane opened his eyes to see Ryan’s eyes tinged with emotion too. 

“You’re rubbing off on me,” Shane told him with a crooked grin.

“Literally,” Ryan grinned back as he spread precome from both of them up and down their dicks.

Shane let out a wheezing laugh as his hips arched off of the bed. He was so close, now, his entire body right on the edge.

“C’mon, Shane, it’s okay, I got you, I promise, it’s okay,” Ryan babbled as his hand tightened around them both.

“Ryan, I lo—,” he got cut-off by his own uncontrollable groan. He tried to say it again, but his brain was too focused on his impending orgasm to get the words out.

Squeezing their cocks together, Ryan gasped, “Me too, so much Shane, me too.”

That was the ball game, as they say. With a sharp moan Shane barely even recognized as his own, he came all over Ryan and himself. He tried to pull Ryan down for a kiss but Ryan was making noises of his own, swears and nonsense, as Shane felt new come hit his chest. 

Ryan fell next to Shane, his nose flush with Shane’s temple. Still needing to touch him, Shane rolled over, his arm wrapped snugly around Ryan’s back while Ryan did the same to him. They kissed, hot and clumsy, barely fitting their mouths together before melting into the bed in a tight embrace. Shane was a sticky, soon-to-be itchy mess, but it could wait. Holding Ryan in his arms could not.

As they laid there, Shane cursed himself for not figuring all of this out sooner. He had been so sure that this was all new, that the intensity of Watcher had planted the seed, but now he realized that Watcher was merely the watering can, nourishing it, letting it bloom. This, his attraction to Ryan, his love for Ryan, had been in him all along. He’d just been too stubborn to see it.

“‘M sorry,” Shane mumbled. 

“We’ll take a shower, don’t worry about it.”

“For taking so long,” Shane clarified, barely holding it together. He didn’t know how Ryan did it, feeling so much all of the time. It was draining on every possible level.

“Oh. Oh Shane, hey,” Ryan said softly, his thumb wiping under Shane’s eye. “Don’t do that.”

“But we could’ve...we could’ve been doing this. The whole time,” he said, his shame bubbling like acid in his throat.

“No way. You think 2015-Ryan Bergara could fuck like that? He was a total idiot,” Ryan said with a grin. Shane let out a small laugh before Ryan continued. “We never would’ve made it. I was too stupid and you were too stubborn. We would’ve crashed and burned, and then where would we be?”

“You don’t know that. What if we missed out on years of this all because I was too fucking repressed to see—,”

“ _Stop_ ,” Ryan interrupted. “Not everyone gets this shit figured out at the same time. The important part is that you figured it out at all, okay?”

“I don’t feel like I have anything figured out anymore,” Shane admitted.

“Including, perhaps, your insistence that there are no such things as ghouls or ghosts?” Ryan asked with a hopeful grin.

Shane snorted. “Sorry, that is one thing I’m still sure of.”

“Worth a shot,” Ryan said with a shrug. “Can’t believe I’m balls deep in love with a guy who doesn’t believe in ghosts and doesn’t like basketball."

“Can’t believe _I’m_ balls deep in love with a guy who uses ‘balls deep’ as a romantic adjective.”

Ryan leered at him. “Just wait until I am balls deep inside you, then you’ll get how fucking romantic that actually is.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shane sputtered, his cheeks flushing with heat. “You can’t just _say_ that.”

“Then don’t get all red and sweaty and adorable on me every time I say shit like that,” Ryan replied before smacking a loud kiss to Shane’s cheek. 

Still a little flustered, Shane didn’t follow as Ryan rolled out of bed. As Ryan stretched, a bead of sweat fell down his back, tracing the lines of his muscles until it dripped onto the floor. Shane reached out with his finger to draw a different trail along Ryan’s spine.

“What was that about?” Ryan asked with an involuntary shiver.

Shane stood up to hug Ryan from behind, holding him flush against Shane’s chest. With his usual steadiness back, Shane smiled into Ryan’s hair. 

“Just doing a little chaos theory.”

Ryan laughed. “Did life, uh, find a way?”

“Yup." He pressed a kiss to the top of Ryan's head. "And so did we.”


End file.
